


Light Enough

by fluorineandsilver



Category: True Detective
Genre: Domestic, Fluff, M/M, Post-Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-11
Updated: 2014-03-11
Packaged: 2018-01-15 08:26:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1298128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluorineandsilver/pseuds/fluorineandsilver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snippets from life together after the show ends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Light Enough

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cordite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cordite/gifts).



Riding shotgun in Marty’s Cadillac, naked but for his hospital gown, Rust can feel every bump and crack in the road like a fresh knife sliding into his gut. They’re maybe halfway to Marty’s place when the car hits a pothole and Rust can’t keep his breath from hitching. Marty pulls over so Rust can take a break, muttering about pulling out his stitches and stubbornness and whathaveyou. They sit, and look up at the stars, and Rust smokes a cigarette from Marty’s conciliatory pack of Camels. Marty reaches across the seat to rest his hand on Rust’s shoulder,  and Rust can’t help but think that while they ain’t engaged, they are most definitely something. He turns to look Marty in the eye, and the other man pulls his hand away.

“You good to keep going?” Marty asks. Rust just nods, stares out the window, takes another drag on his cigarette.

~~~

Marty’s only got the one sofa-bed. Rust sits down on it gingerly, testing the mattress. It’s lumpy, but not overwhelmingly so. Marty tosses him a pair of sweatpants, which he slips on without getting up, uncaring and unashamed of his nakedness. What’s the point? There’s a moment then, with Rust sitting on the side of the bed and Marty looking down at him, that has an odd electricity to it, and in that moment Rust knows that sooner or later, they’re going to fuck. That shit is predestined. Nothing’s happening tonight, though.

“I’m not gonna-” Marty can’t get the words out. “I’m not ready…”

“Shit, Marty, I would come apart like a paper bag if we even tried,” Rust says. “No rush.”

“No rush,” Marty echoes, and chuckles. “God damn.” They’re both asleep inside the hour. If, in the night, their limbs happen to get tangled up, who can say who made the first move?

~~~

“...The way I figure it, that little ovoide isn’t a symbol of potential at all. See, at no point could it have become the new life we associate it with. What it really is, is just the dream of a life that could have been…,” Rust trails off, staring down into his cup of coffee.

“What I asked is,” Marty interrupts, “do you want your eggs scrambled, or over easy? Jesus Christ, man, are you gonna be like this every fucking morning?”

Rust grins.

“I’m just fuckin’ with you, man. Scrambled is fine.”

~~~

“This is envy, Marty, pure and simple,” Rust protests.

“How’s that?” Marty asks.

“You’re just jealous that I’ve still got hair,” Rust says, but he lets Marty drag him to the barbershop anyway, lets the barber unceremoniously dump his ponytail in a trash bin, and shave off his moustache. And after?

“Well, shit, you’re almost decent looking,” Marty says. “Not half as creepifying.” The barber gives them both a look, but Marty waits until they leave to run his hands through Rust’s newly shorn hair. “It takes years off your face, man.”

“Too bad it took so long for…” Rust gestures between the two of them. “You coulda had me when I was handsome.”

“You were bugfuck crazy when you were handsome,” Marty replies. Rust shrugs.

“I’m bugfuck crazy now.”

“Don’t I know it.”

~~~

They’re carrying groceries to the car when a skinny teenager with a mohawk, dressed all in black, tells them that they are ‘the most punk rock gay couple’ he’s ever seen. Marty shakes his head after the kid walks off.

“I’m not,” he says. “I’m not gay. I’m not- It’s not the right word.” Rust shrugs.

“I am. I think.”

“Yeah? What about Maggie?”

“I dunno. Maggie’s...Maggie. Y’know?”

“Yeah,” Marty replies. “I do.”

Maggie works it out just by looking at them. Marty swings by the house to pick up Audrey for a dinner, and Rust goes along for the ride. They’re standing on her porch, and maybe it’s the way Rust has abandoned any pretense of respecting Marty’s personal space, but it takes her all of three seconds. She snorts and says they deserve each other.

~~~

Marty retires from PI work, and Rust starts serving soup to troubled souls instead of beers. He’s still picky though, won’t work for any charity that’s religious. Marty sees his daughters at least twice a month. Rust and Marty go shopping for a real bed. They do fuck, eventually, though not as often as people would tend to assume. Rust wakes up in a cold sweat some nights, the word ‘Carcosa’ on his tongue, but when you get real sleep, bad dreams are easier to chase away. They bicker and they joke and they sometimes have real honest to god fights. It’s all good, as far as Rust is concerned. It’s life. He stands by what he said about the stars, that night at the end of everything, or the beginning of everything. ‘A flat circle,’ his brain whispers. He tells it to hush. There’s light in the world. Just enough of it.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Companion Mix here: http://8tracks.com/myfavoritedemons/light-enough

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Waiting On Nothing to Bite](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1302592) by [cordite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cordite/pseuds/cordite)




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